Chapter 33
Lady Claire
“What can be said of the Blood-one? Beyond that his shadow spans the Kingdom…”
Lore of Crescent Isles, Vol. I
Insides of the Brightfort were a stark contrast to Elucido; stone buildings stood erect, imposing over wide, flat streets and narrow alleys, sporting rather simple architecture – all buildings were designed cubically, rather than the odd and weirdly progressive designs of Elucido. Garbs of the people, however, were as diverse as anywhere Noah had seen; from flamboyant and colorful, to simple and drab.
It wasn’t strange, he mused, considering the nature of the fort as the centralized hub of Kingdom-and-beyond wide trade. Though it was only through the occasional glimpses he saw from inside the carriage, he admired this place far more than Elucido, as it felt far more like home.
“… is this your first time visiting the Brightfort, Mr. Flint?” the melodic voice interrupted his thoughts and drew his attention over to the carriage’s other side. The green eyes smiled curiously at him, though she kept up a proper guard.
“Indeed,” Noah nodded, bringing the cup of steaming tea closer to his nostrils; the scent was pleasant, the wafting aroma stretching out throughout the carriage. “What about you, Lady…?”
“… Claire,” Ah, indeed… “I am afraid I am quite used to this place. So much so that the magic the world speaks it has… eludes me.”
“… isn’t it normal, though?” Noah mused, wondering what was the actual story behind her and Quickett. “Even the most spectacular things eventually lose their luster if we keep by them for too long.”
“… I am sure your wife would be rather disappointed to hear you, Mr. Flint.” She chuckled faintly, taking a sip of tea.
“I’m afraid I’m of no such luck,” he said, smiling back. “To have a wife, I mean.”
“Oh? That’s unexpected. You do not seem to be that young, Mr. Flint.”
“… romance, I’m afraid, eludes me,” he said, taking a sip of tea. “Much like the magic of this place eludes you, Lady Claire.”
“Eeh, that is rather unexpected.”
“What about you? If you don’t mind me asking.” Though it was brief, he saw a quick flicker flash inside her gaze – one of remorse, pain, anger, and even loathing. There is a story behind her, he knew, but now, it looked like, wasn’t the time to learn it.
“I am afraid we are in the same boat, Mr. Flint,” she replied, recovering immediately. So quickly, actually, that Noah was certain only experts in human nature would have even noticed her strange reaction. “Romance eludes me just the same as the magic of this place.”
“… that’s a shame,” he said. “I am plenty certain thousands of suitors would have wept on their knees were they to hear you.”
“… perhaps,” she smiled mysteriously. “What of you? No suitors lining up?”
“… afraid not.” Noah said. “The world is too interesting not to spend time exploring it.”
“What interests you the most about it?” she asked.
"… everything," Noah replied, meeting her eyes. "Stories, known and unknown, people, legends, myths, odd and strange places, the possibilities… I feel it's a shame we only have one life to live. Cursed by birth."
“… cursed by birth,” she mumbled, smiling bitterly. “You are strangely macabre, Mr. Flint.”
“Really? I don’t think so,” he said, glancing out the curtain, taking a sip of the tea. It had a rather pleasant taste, similar to mint and lemon combined. “Am I wrong in thinking it is cruel? We are given so many things to learn, to love, to hate, to absorb… yet… only so much time. Before we can even indulge ourselves, we are old and gray, grave-borne. Full of regrets.”
“… aren’t we too young to be thinking of graves and regrets, Mr. Flint?” she asked with a faint grin.
“… you are lucky then.” He said, smiling back.
“Lucky?” she tilted her head.
“Not to have any regrets just yet,” he added, looking at her directly, reading her reaction. A flinch, a twitch, and another flicker in the eye. “I pray you never pick any.”
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“… you sound like you have your fair share.” She recovered quickly this time as well, though not as quickly.
“… huh,” he mumbled. “Is it strange?”
“… I suppose not.”
“…”
“… how do you deal with them?” she asked after a brief silence.
“With regrets?”
“Hm.” She nodded.
“I don’t,” he said, his answer startling her. “I let them pile on.”
“… isn’t it difficult?”
“Less so than dealing with them,” he said, smiling faintly. “In the end, it’s not as though I can do anything to fix them. Why stress over it?”
“… that sounds awfully cowardly.” Ah, I hit a sore spot, it seems…
“Might be,” he shrugged. “It does afford me a decent sleep at night.”
“…”
“Ah, forgive me, Lady Claire; these are just some hollow musings of my insignificant self,” he added. “I am certain someone of your noble stature finds such cowardice deplorable. I shouldn’t have mentioned anything.” Holy crap… her façade is almost non-existent… despite the attempts, her front was cracking, Noah noticed. The story of her and the jester might be even worse than he was led to believe.
“… hardly,” she said, lowering her head and putting the tea down. “If anything, I find myself in it.”
“…”
“As you said,” she looked back up, meeting his eyes. “It’s much easier to let them swell. A part of me, though, believes otherwise. My Mother used to say that nothing is regretful so long as we did everything in our power to make it otherwise. Do you think so, Mr. Flint?”
“… I’m afraid that isn’t a matter of thought, Lady Claire,” Noah said, chuckling bitterly, his eyes shining in a strange gleam missed by her. “But of a feeling. So long as we feel something is regretful, no matter our actions, won’t it remain that way?”
“…” She’s close…
“In the end, though, it doesn’t matter,” he said, putting the teacup away. “Regrets are just a small part of our stories, wouldn’t you agree?”
“… no.” Ah, she cracked… the green eyes swelled in the faint sheen of tears, the cheeks flushing in an even fainter red. She had gripped the satin tightly with her fingers, crumpling it, shaking lightly. “Aren’t there some regrets that define our story, Mr. Flint? Some that are so powerful… so painful… they overturn every other part of who we are?”
“…”
“Because I think there are.”
“… I’m sorry, Lady Claire,” Noah said, withdrawing suddenly. “It seems I’ve spoken out of turn. I beg your forgiveness.”
“… apologies,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I have said too much.”
“… no,” he shook his head. “I’m… just sad that you had to say it to a complete stranger. What a wicked world we live in, no?”
“… you appear remarkably quaint about this,” she said. “By now, you must have realized, or at least approximated, my identity. As far as I know, any other man in your shoes would have latched onto this and driven me into a corner.” Her lips curled up into a light smile as she took another deep breath, calming down.
“… I could have,” he replied with a smile. “And, if I’m honest, I probably should have.”
“You definitely should have.”
“Ha ha ha… yeah…”
“Why didn’t you, then?” she asked.
“… I’ve just condemned the world for being wicked,” he said. “Wouldn’t I have contributed to it, if I had done so?”
“…”
“… I most definitely don’t have answers to your troubles, Lady Claire, but, if it will help, I will be more than happy to listen to your regrets, and seal them in my memory until my grave. If not, I’ll acknowledge them, and rest well knowing you are strong enough to fight them without my assistance.”
“… as I thought,” she smiled widely, her green eyes glistening as she leaned further back into her seat. “You are a really strange man, Mr. Flint, offering your ear to a complete stranger.”
“… really? And here I thought I was a busybody.”
“Oh, a bit of that as well, for certain.”
“I have sinned, it seems.”
“… you said you are a merchant, no?” she asked.
“Hm.” He nodded quizzically.
“… most of the merchants that I know can’t utter a sound beyond the length of their greed,” she chuckled. “Whenever they see me, the begin yapping about this and that, trying to sell me the sky and the sea. Not to mention they dress more intensively than I do. I wonder… what makes you so different?”
“…” Likely that being like them wouldn’t have gotten me anywhere with you… he kept his thoughts to himself, maintaining the silence for a moment as he met her eyes. “Certainly, if I had either the sky or the sea to sell, I would have tried to sell it to you. Unfortunately, I have neither; only my hollow ear, and empty words of comfort.”
“… I’d hardly say they are empty. My regrets… I’m afraid no matter how many lifetimes I would be given… it wouldn’t make a difference. I’ve done something unredeemable, and for that… one lifetime of regrets is a worthwhile punishment. So, while I appreciate your offer, as well as your trust in me, I’m afraid I’m still just a silly young girl with her heads in the clouds.”
"… don't say so, Lady Claire," Noah said as the carriage came to a halt, stretching in the seat as he prepared to leave. "Where there is a will, there is also a way. If you truly do believe that, live on; if not," he added, glancing back with a mysterious smile. "Find me. Someone's heart still longs for you; rather than regret it, perhaps indulge its longing. And, as it stands," he added as her calm expression mellowed out into one of shock and horror. "I can become the bridge to narrow that gap. It was a pleasure, Lady Claire,” he added, waving back as he walked away from the carriage. “Until next time… hopefully…”
Claire remained seated in the carriage for the longest while, staring at the dark street beyond which his silhouette had long since disappeared. Her attendants were running crazy around her wagons, slowly packaging everything, though she hardly cared for it. He knew. There was no doubt about it. And he knew all the while; rather, in retrospect, she realized, he was leading her by the nose the entire ride through. It was as though he dug a hole and simply waited for her to fall into it. Yet… she couldn’t sense any evil intent from him. If he had any, he would have already tried blackmailing her; yet, he walked away, offering a promise. Flint Fyllun, was it? She mused, recollecting herself. You said you had neither the sky nor the ocean to sell me, Flint… yet… there you went and offered me the world…